


Auto Parts

by Whimzlogo



Category: NXT, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Gen, Kayfabe Compliant, Random & Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 21:24:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20378356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whimzlogo/pseuds/Whimzlogo
Summary: Jokes at the expense of any one of them— coming from anyone who doesn't have a role to play in The Prophecy apart from losing? Oh, no. Not on The Undisputed Era's watch.But, coming from within the fold?Free passeswere handed out. It made for some pretty unfair three on one situations.In this particular situation, Kyle was the one.





	Auto Parts

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to write something about these four, and this simple, <strike>stupid</strike> silly idea seemed like a good concept for a short story to break me into it.  
The ending, I must warn, is a little more abrupt than my usual, but I found it to be fitting.

In the middle of a UE-esque cacophony of harsh, searing words, no one waited for their turn to talk. Seizing the moment and just _talking_, even if you were talking over somebody else, was the most popular route to go. Chances were at least one brother was listening to you, which was better than none by simply keeping your mouth closed.

They received side eyes from people in the convenience store for this, but that never stopped them anywhere else.

"No, you know what? It's about _time _Regal made a good decision for us," Roderick butted in again, somehow single-handedly silencing Adam's rant about Johnny Gargano's unhealthy obsession with Street Fights and Bobby's grousing about their tag team title match in Toronto being an essential screwjob. "The Street Profits are gonna have a harder time pinning a guy who's actually _trying _to kick out. Y'know— because he'll be legal and that's... sort of how you _avoid _losing a match?"

"Bobby would've kicked out— I think we all know that," Adam chimed, having no qualms about changing the subject.

"Completely," agreed Kyle. "Why did I need to kick out again?"

"Incompetent refs spawn questions like that. It's probably best not to dwell on it," Bobby reasoned.

"Yeah, incompetent refs," Adam shot back, "but I think we'd be remiss not to acknowledge the astonishing incompetency of The Street Profits as well. Too busy cracking jokes in the ring to notice they had the wrong guy."

"I'll bet it's _easy _to crack jokes when you're the ones who're on top," Kyle vented.

"I can promise you boys with the utmost sincerity that I will not crack any jokes until all three of you 've got gold on your shoulders too," the leader of The Undisputed Era promised, raising his hand as if taking an oath.

"Aw, man, you promise?" Roddy said in faux affection.

"It's not a fuckin' joke, Roddy," Adam said, offhanded. He rolled the shoulder with the NXT Championship proudly draped over it as if to emphasize his point.

The rare silence that followed allowed all clientele to hear the overarching sound of the radio station blaring out of all available speakers, clear as a bell, going to a commercial break.

...

_"O', O', O', O'Reilleeeeeey...!_

_Auto. Parts!"_

All four men froze.

Adam dropped the belt; it landed on the edge of the shelf he stood in front of, hitting down with a clatter and filling the tense, empty void before he quickly collected it again. A box of candy got dislodged and fell to the floor.

"...No," said Kyle, quieter than he would have liked. Going from not even being able to feel his own heartbeat to _hearing it in his ears_ was a hell of a jump in the duration of a few stupid seconds that _should have been_ meaningless, for all intents and purposes.

Adam scrambled to pick up the box as the narrator rattled off about auto parts. Instead of putting it back, he clutched it to his chest and stared off into space, his eyes occasionally darting at Kyle. Kyle furrowed his brows and opened his mouth, but no sound came out. A glance at Roderick showed him ducking his head and scratching at his temple, the corners of his own mouth curling up.

"Gents—" The one thing Kyle did manage to say got cut off by a firm hand pressing his shoulder. Bobby shared a wobbly smile with him, and Kyle hated himself for returning it, because this was still _Bobby _and it was hard not to, and... "No," he said again, louder.

Bobby chuckled first, though his eyes glinted apologetically. Roddy mopped his face and gave in to the urge next, clucking out laughter. He moved around behind Bobby and Kyle, shoving the latter in the back with his elbow. 

"_Baby men_," sneered Kyle, half incredulity and half anger. "What the hell?!"

Adam tapped the box of Milk Duds with his finger in compulsive fashion, struggling to keep himself in check. He spun around with a wide smile he wasn't concerning himself with hiding and quickly left the aisle, shoulders shaking.

"You _liar_! Some fuckin' promise!" Kyle huffed.

Adam did laugh then, safely out of sight in the next aisle over.

"Auto Parts," mumbled Bobby, as if testing the words for later use, before sliding an arm around Kyle's neck and pulling him into half a hug. He tugged him along as they followed after their filthy liar of a leader. Roderick snickered again.

"See, it wasn't funny before; it's funnier when you actually hear the jingle, though."

"Wooow, Roddy. Judging by your reactions, I _never_ would'a figured that out," replied Kyle, persistently sour. "What happened to talking smack about The Street Profits? Now you're giving it up to 'em? Genuflecting before their terrible jokes?"

"Who said we're ever gonna give 'em the satisfaction?" Roderick queried.

"This joke's ours now. Didn't you hear?" Adam added, not looking up as he browsed painkillers.

"Fantastic." Kyle shimmied out of Bobby's hold. "It wouldn't be total, utter dignity suicide to say 'I'm gonna go wait out by the car', would it?"

"Ooh." He had the NXT Champion's full attention then. "...You're not _actually _gonna say that, are you?"


End file.
